Now I'll never be a teen model!

Well, that'll teach me to play with my kids.

I sat on the floor yesterday evening to play with my slap-happy toddler as she climbed back and forth over me, giggling wildly, stopping occasionally in my lap to give me an exaggerated hug before scampering off again (only to come at me once more from the other side). She became more and more animated as the game continued, laughing louder, climbing faster, limbs flailing, until -- *THWACK!* She kicked me in the nose, hard.

I burst into tears.

I checked my nose for blood, but there was none. I wiggled it for signs of broken bones, but everything seemed intact. I think it swelled slightly at the time, but I don't have so much as a bruise today.... All that pain and nothing to show for it. Figures.

To their credit, both my kids came to my rescue as soon as they saw me crying. The toddler calmed down, patted my head and said, "I know, Mommy. I know. I'm so sorry you have an owie. It's okay, Mommy. If you rest you'll feel really, really better." The baby, who had been playing with some Peek-a-Blocks at the other end of the room, crawled over to me, hoisted herself into my lap, and opened her little bird mouth as if to give me a kiss.

So I'll never be a teen model, but the upshot is that even the painful moments of motherhood turn out to be worth it in the end.


~RCH~